


Commencement

by Keolah



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hope, Iambic Pentameter, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1996-01-01
Updated: 1996-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-18 10:41:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Keolah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A poem telling of the early days of Middle-Earth, and the despair of one forgotten maiden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Commencement

Vents of steam rush forth from primordial earth  
within the volcanic terrain clouds of dust are falling  
sand spills hard from scintillating skies  
dancing in the roughly blowing winds  
ever-ending then beginning times with wingéd words  
words many spewing forth with chaotic order  
rushes o'er the stony landscape  
today is yesterday and tomorrow is today  
swirling ever-nightly space of stars  
spinning are the ancient days now lost. 

I see the stars at night that ever shine  
although their light is put to shame by thine  
soon all the stars will fade again, and then  
above all others thus the sun will shine.  
We see, at last, that all the dark go hence  
if only we can put it far behind  
and through the darkness we must travel hence  
Let not run through darkness blinded those that never saw the light! 

Verily, the stars are doomed to fall  
with flashing light above the treetops tall  
then, too, the trees shall fall with them  
but can we never speak of brighter things?  
So there with hope the stars will never fall! 

Forward ever, knowst thou not the stars  
that stretch across the sky that nothing mars?  
For see the night has fallen not as yet  
and never shall the evening fail again. 

Winter cometh from the dawn of days  
and seeing future come from out the haze  
the veil lifts and mist is cleared, and see  
the beauty of a land still cold, but free  
from all the ugliness of modern times;  
so here now free out o'er the rocky climbs  
the valley stretches vast beneath the stars  
beneath the sky the way shall not be barred,  
for here the land cannot have been so cold  
as to keep from entering any people bold  
enough to dare to face the haze and mist  
that swirl about the valley and such bliss  
shall never till the end of time be lost.  
So here we walk, but at what final cost  
shall this daring venture deem to charge  
the fearless ones uncaring forward barge?  
So here we dare, but where to seek the sky  
that vast above will spin but never lie? 

The eyes of joy are brilliant in the light  
of sunny skies of summer shining bright  
as diamonds scintillating with the blue  
of rivers flowing quickly shifting true.  
And unsurpassed great happiness shall know  
that ever shining eyes of bright did glow  
until the darkness quenched their light as quick  
as thoughts that as with wings doth ever flit  
about the minds of joyous ones that dance  
and sing a song, the failing light doth prance. 

Blackness falling, spilling cross the sky,  
ripping through the helpless stars that try  
as ever yet to free themselves from pain  
but all their efforts now have been in vain.  
Thou seest the failing light that spins about,  
for many stars have taken now a route  
that leads to darkness and swift danger coming  
and quencheth all the light thou seest there running;  
for ever even stars doth make a choice  
while listening to the ringing singing voice  
that drives them ever down the shadowed path  
that leads to death, and no one ever hath  
returned therefrom that failing darkened road.  
But if the stars are wise and wisdom showed,  
they may at last be able to return  
if only from that evil path they turn. 

Sad enough, so few have ever left  
that tearful trail that many folk have wept,  
shedding tears for lost and youthful ones  
that once had been beloved maids and sons;  
they see the letters speaking now to them  
amid the darkness that has ever hemmed  
with truthless images of rainbow lands  
and ever they don't see the perilous sands  
that theaten to engulf fore'er the light  
and make now dark what once was true and bright. 

We walk the valley now and see all this,  
and hear the tales of people losing bliss  
to all the grief that takes their children, now  
the sadness of the valley dost not endeth, how  
can all the people of the valley cope  
with children led along an ending rope?  
They cannot leave the sorrows there behind  
for e'er again the sorrows they will find  
and all reborn with grief renewed again  
and that which was twice lost is now twice gained;  
and pain, they seeth not the danger here  
for they are blinded twice again with fear. 

We see the terror that now lies without  
the valley's sheering mountainous walls, and routes  
that lead outside the valley's losing game  
are filled with horror, loneliness, and pain.  
Other valleys surely now exist  
within the plane of starry earthern mist,  
but I have seen them, and they hold no bliss  
and lacking rivers, trees, and life, for this:  
so empty are the lands about the world  
that darkness lives where never there unfurled  
the sun's bright banner true of golden light  
that saved this valley from the beasts of blight,  
for never had they seen so bright a star  
fall forth from skies and drive them off afar  
away from her beloved patch of land  
away she drove the demons and the sand. 

We walketh now the wooded valley here  
and tread the pathways that were once with fear  
so filled that none would walk alone at night  
and only in the cloudless starry light;  
we see the fountain that had once been blue  
and green, ere ended its bright flow I knew,  
when spilling terror rushes across the land  
the valley was then filled with beasts and sand  
for hidden was the sun from out our sight  
with clouds of blackened soot and ash and blight.  
They came o'er flowing like a stream of flame  
enraged, as o'er the mountains demons came  
with trampling, horrid, earthquake pounding feet  
and hooves, now tearing with their claws they beat  
and rip apart the land with horns and fangs:  
the valley shaken with the tremor pangs  
until the sun broke through the clouds and shone  
a golden ray that like a sword cut bone  
and drove the monsters back across the peaks:  
and yet today the sun to fountain speaks  
of better times that both they knew and loved  
when flew the skies the mallard and the dove. 

Now we cometh to a clearing fair  
nestled in a joyful copse and there,  
amidst the sunlit grasses, flowers, trees,  
there dances forth a maiden, such as these,  
so filled with joy, so fragile and so light  
with darkling eyes that once were blue and bright  
but now are quenched and joy is not e'en known  
but think's she's glad, but never even grown.  
She's lost her joy and all her innocence  
and fallen to procrastinating indolence  
e'en though her beauty can still try denying  
and her lost heart it can attempt defying  
but a single look into her eyes  
proclaims that which she's trying to deny. 

We speaketh to the black-eyed maiden here  
and learn that she had run with earthly fear  
down the path of darkness to the sky  
there wishing then to see the rainbow high  
and with great courage leapéd back to earth  
but still has not as yet regained her mirth  
though she is one of few who turnéd back  
she had a friend whom she did blind attack  
and he has never left that tearful trail  
now alone the maiden has turned frail  
lonely in the world without a friend  
yet wishing that her pain could ever end. 

Then the golden sun doth break the sky  
into our eyes the living light doth fly  
and thus the sun now speaketh to the maid  
scolding her for what she now hath said  
and tells her to forget the pain and strife  
to get on with her own still-hopeful life.  
The maiden stands as one to which the shock  
of revelation comes unto her locks  
and finally the maiden understands  
that it need not be pain and deadly sands  
which drive her forward down the paths of life,  
that she need not be worshipping the knife  
and wishing that she could still follow down  
the darkness path her friend for thus would frown  
all those who ever knew her and had loved  
the maid without her knowing, as the dove  
doth fly the sky with signs of peace and hope--  
she need not climb unto the ending rope.


End file.
